


Tell Me What I Am (Carry Me Home)

by EmeraldHeiress



Series: Tremors of Legacy [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Don't copy to another site, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Finding Family, Garzonas Case, Gen, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Introspection, Jason Todd is Robin, Minor Character Death, Parent-Child Relationship, implied/referenced past sexual assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 17:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: Every time Bruce's gaze rested on Jason now, he had a wary look.Jason was never going to be the Robin that Batman wanted.“He’s going to wind up just like his father, Alfred.”
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Jason Todd
Series: Tremors of Legacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605163
Comments: 103
Kudos: 662





	Tell Me What I Am (Carry Me Home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dxs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxs/gifts), [Ellegrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellegrine/gifts), [Garpie64](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garpie64/gifts).



> This fic does deal with Garzonas Case and the implied sexual assault of Gloria Stanson. Additionally, during the handling of the case, there is a brief non-graphic mention of an _attempted_ assault in Jason's past.
> 
> To dxs for prompting me. To Garpie64 and Ell for putting up with me while I worked on it and probably drove them crazy. I hope the finished product makes up for it! Ell, thank you for all your help. It was invaluable.

Living with Bruce was infinitely better than living on the streets, but Jason kept waiting for the bottom to drop out. Still, seven months in and it hadn’t and he even had something better.

He couldn’t restrain the delighted shout as he hurtled through the air, springing between buildings with the help of wires and whatever mystical technology Lucius Fox shoved into those grapple guns. A wide grin stretched across his face as he landed deftly on the rooftop he was set to meet Bruce on.

“Hello, little bird.”

He froze, eyes wide. _Fuck_. He’d been through B’s files. He knew who that was. _Ra’s Al Ghul_. What was he doing here? The League of Shadows was definitely not something to fuck with. Especially for just Robin. He really didn’t want to die tonight.

“Relax, child. I mean you no harm.”

Jason shifted, nervous, and really looked at the man, reading his intentions and body language. He’d had to learn to read others growing up with Willis and on the street; to see what people wanted in the way they moved and the way they held themselves.

Ra’s was telling the truth. There was no desire to harm or even misdirect Robin in those oddly familiar green eyes. Ra’s only wanted to talk. To see him. Not even to see _Robin_ but to see _Jason_. But… why?

He relaxed slightly, “What do you want, sir?”

Always best not to antagonize people of great power. Especially when one was alone on a rooftop with them and had no idea where backup was.

“Merely to congratulate you on your ascension to the Robin title and present you with a gift.” The regal man stepped forward and handed Jason a leatherbound book. “I had heard you enjoy reading and what better than a classic collection of stories. Both my daughter and I enjoy them.”

Jason ran a hand over the cover of such an old volume, obviously well-loved and well cared for. He couldn’t help but feel a touch of reverence as he traced the title. One Thousand and One Nights.

He looked up, touched but baffled. “ _Why?_ ”

“Why not?” A glimmer of amusement shone in the eyes of the Demon’s Head. “You may want to put it away before your mentor makes it past my daughter.”

Refusing never even crossed his mind as Jason gently put the volume away in his bag, just in time for Bruce to arrive with a sweep of his cape and growl.

“Robin, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, B.”

The Dark Knight stepped in front of his young partner, blocking the other man’s view of the boy. “Ra’s, what are you doing in Gotham? What do you want with Robin?”

Ra’s smirked at the boy as his head poked around the dark form of his mentor as he answered, “Just congratulating the boy on catching your attention, Detective, and renewing my offer from years ago.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. That... didn't ring true. That last part. What offer and why was he lying about renewing it?

“ _No_.”

“Then, we shall take our leave. Have a pleasant evening, Detective. _Little bird_.”

____________________

Jason hadn’t known what to make of his encounter with the Demon’s Head, but decided he needed to do more research into the League of Shadows.

He’d never shied away from bloodshed. Death didn’t bother him. The idea of murder for the betterment of society wasn’t a new one and — his eyes slid over to Bruce before flicking away — well, it wasn’t like he’d never had to defend himself on the streets. He hadn’t exactly stopped to see if they had lived. He wasn’t fucking stupid.

A part of him admitted that the guy might have a good idea. What with balance-keeping and what not. But he understood, too, why Bruce kept him out of Gotham. His morals were pretty strict.

He followed B’s rules as well as he could, but he knew he hit harder than the man liked sometimes. But you couldn’t teach the assholes without a little pain. They were just going to keep hurting the working girls and the kids if you didn’t hurt them a little.

Jason huffed.

He hadn’t been Robin long but he was already chafing at some of the restrictions he was placed under. He hoped that he got used to it soon. He wasn’t used to being leashed. The draw of a bed and warm food and school and Alfred and _Robin_ were enough to keep him in line and on his toes. He’d try. But it wasn’t easy.

Also, if Bruce brought Dick up one more time, he might just lose his mind.

____________________

“Jason!”

The twelve-year-old turned towards the unfamiliar voice only to have a toddler shoved into his arms before he could do more than blink. He looked down. Pretty green eyes stared back at him out of a round cherubic face under a mop of black hair. Unwillingly, he bounced the boy and cooed.

“ _Hello!_ Who are you? You are so cute!”

He’d always liked kids. He’d helped some of the women in the apartment building he and his mom lived in with theirs when he was younger. Usually in exchange for a meal or a place to hide out when Willis was out of prison.

“His name is Damian. He likes you.”

Jason looked up, a wide grin stretched across his face, to see Talia Al Ghul standing in front of him. He could have sworn he heard a record scratch somewhere.

_The fuck?!_

Her stance was relaxed, hands in the pockets of her jeans as she looked at the pair of them with a soft smile on her face. When he’d met her father a couple of months previous he didn’t realize it was setting a damned _precedent_.

“I — uh — Miss Al Ghul —” He stuttered, surprised but respectful. She could slice him in two if he remembered her files right. Which he did, because he’d been reading up on the League pretty fanatically since that night. There hadn’t been any mention of a baby, though.

“Call me Talia.” Voice warm with amusement. “Come along, we don’t have all day. Only a few hours before I have to have you at the manor.”

“I don’t understand.” Jason admitted, shifting Damian automatically to his hip when he fussed.

Talia reached out and ruffled his hair, a strange look in her eyes. “Happy Birthday, Jason.”

“My birthday was last week.” He blurted, baffled.

A flare of sadness flashed across her face, almost too quick to see.

“I know. A little belated, but we do what we can considering…”

“Considering what?” He asked, curious but beginning to resign himself to never getting answers from the Al Ghuls.

“One day you will understand, habibi. Until then, come along.” She herded him toward a smart looking car, deftly clipping Damian into a car seat before sliding into the driver’s seat herself.

Jason paused at the door and weighed his options. He should probably call Bruce — he was kind of being kidnapped by an Al Ghul — but she had a baby… a baby that looked rather suspiciously like some of those pictures Alfred had strategically placed around the family rooms. She had also mentioned dropping him off at the manor in a few hours, and she had picked him up at school.

He was also curious as hell and that at the very least meant he was more than willing to at least see where this was going. He wasn’t reading any hostile intent in her, either. She wanted to spend time with him. She… for some reason, cared for him.

Talia smiled a small genuine smile at him as he sat next to her and buckled his seatbelt. _Safety first,_ he thought ironically.

To be fair, he didn’t expect a whirlwind shipping trip through the Gemstone Mall in the Diamond District. Talia seemed to have _ideas_ about things he needed. Things he wanted. Items he hadn’t been willing to admit a preference for to Bruce or Alfred.

Shirts, pajamas, and sheets in the softest materials. Gentle against his skin for the first time in his life. A Wonder Woman action figure. A Robin plushie. A dragon in flight. Whenever he’d protest that he didn’t need something, or that he was too old for it, another item was added to the pile.

He didn’t understand. In the end, he gave up trying to, merely snuggling Damian and following Talia from shop to shop.

Rich people, man. What the hell?

They had ice cream before leaving the mall. Jason enjoyed carefully feeding the three-year-old his first dish of chocolate. The kid was just too fucking cute. He didn’t even say anything as Talia took pictures. What the hell could she use them for? What kind of blackmail could someone get out of a street kid interacting with a toddler?

Before they left to take Jason back to the Manor, Talia artfully arranged a blanket to conceal a now sleeping Damian. She turned an eye on Jason who just shrugged. Who was he to give up her secrets? That shit was between her and Bruce. Satisfied, she swooped in and pressed a light kiss to his forehead, startling him.

“Let us get you home, habibi. Before Bruce loses his mind.” She grinned, both vicious and affectionate.

Jason snorted.

The man himself met them at the door when they pulled up, turning dark eyes on the pair.

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice carried a question as well as a warning.

“Don’t look at me, B. Your rogues are weird.” He shrugged, unconcerned. He wasn’t going to let the man ruin this afternoon for him. He heard Talia laugh softly behind him.

“ _Talia_.” Oh, that was _all_ warning. Territorial and protective. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Beloved.” White teeth glinted, bright in the darkening evening, as she grinned unrepentantly. “Your new ward is charming. I’m afraid I had to see for myself.”

Jason squinted. That was… not quite a lie. If he hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t have caught it. Subtle twisting of the truth. _Huh_. He had to learn that.

“Don’t do it again, Talia.”

“Whatever you say, Beloved.” Amused. _Lies_. She was absolutely planning on doing it again.

Jason couldn’t help the grin that twitched at his lips. He’d enjoyed spending time with her and Damian. He couldn’t wait.

He carefully bussed an exasperated-but-trying-to-hide-it Alfred on the cheek and made his way to his room. What a day. As he was putting things away, he noticed that Talia must have slipped something else into the bags.

It was another book.

Actually printed in Arabic. He wondered how they knew he had started to learn the language. Shaking his head, Jason just chalked it up to whatever magic they obviously had, considering how Talia seemed to know everything he had even briefly wanted today. Inside the pages, he found pictures of Damian, a few in settings with both Talia and Ra’s. It was an odd but pleasant gesture.

The boy also found a long thin gold chain with a round metal disk on the end engraved with the personal crest of the Al Ghul family. His eyes narrowed in thought as he stared at the necklace. Were they trying to get him to join?

On impulse, he threw the chain around his neck and tucked the pendant into his shirt. It couldn’t hurt, right? Having something like this could be an advantage…

He tried to ignore the warm feeling growing in his chest. He wasn’t sure he could identify it, anyway.

____________________

Jason got a long lecture that night about going places with rogues. When he pointed out that he couldn’t exactly draw attention to them without risking their identities and that Talia would have noticed if he had used his cellphone, Bruce only sighed.

“I refuse to believe that a boy as intelligent as you are could not have found a way to alert me or that you didn’t get yourself out of the situation. Staying with Talia was reckless and dangerous!”

That sparked the first real argument between them about Jason’s lack of judgment and abilities. It had been a vicious fight. Jason was sick of being compared to Dick and needed to find his own way of doing things. He felt like Bruce was trying to force him into a mold.

In the end, Jason was grounded for the foreseeable future, but he also got an emergency beacon that he was commanded to carry at all times in civilian clothing. Bruce, of course, conceded nothing.

Jason stewed but couldn’t — wouldn’t — do anything about it. He loved Bruce and Alfred and Robin. He was just frustrated and angry.

He was also a kid and he wasn’t going to let a few rules stop him from doing what he wanted to do.

____________________

Apparently, Talia had the same thoughts. The visits kept happening. Not often. A couple a year. Around his birthday and then usually about half a year after. Jason didn’t really know what to think about it, to be honest. What the hell did she want?

He enjoyed spending time with her and Damian, though. The boy had taken to calling him _khal_ , which the teen found meant maternal uncle. He assumed Talia would get around to correcting it and shrugged it off. It wasn’t his place. She always brought him a gift from Ra’s. Usually a book, but sometimes it wasn’t. He had gotten small pieces of jewelry and items of clothing over the years.

The Demon’s Head occasionally popped up himself, separate from his daughter, but usually at a distance. Whenever Jason saw him, he always looked like he was holding himself back. Restraining himself from acting.

The Al Ghuls were a goddamned _enigma_.

But they were an excellent distraction as his fights with Bruce got harsher; more explosive. He wasn’t trusted! He was being held back! Jason was still chafing under the ridiculous rules that Batman set for himself and expected his _Robin_ to follow.

Batman didn’t understand the Alley — he might have been made by it, but he hadn’t grown up in it — hadn’t been shaped by it. He didn’t know how to handle the things that crawled out of it and that included Jason.

Jason was tired of being held to an impossible standard. To the same bar as Dick Grayson. Tired of being told he was too harsh, too brash, too rough, too _dangerous_.

Bruce would never understand.

Batman would never be able to do the things that need to be done.

Jason had been questioning for a long time, biting back, forcing Bruce to explain himself. He never got the answers he wanted. Nothing really made sense. If he didn’t want to take those steps, fine, but why not let someone else take them? Why hold everyone else to the same ridiculous standard?

He really needed the distraction from his wreck of a relationship with his mentor right now, so when his fifteenth birthday rolled around, excitement began to stir in his chest. He knew he’d see Talia and Damian soon, though he wasn’t sure when, exactly.

When Bruce left for a business trip, his expectations increased. She always came while Bruce was gone, after that first time. He’d be more concerned about that if he couldn’t read positive intentions in every inch of her body language and if there was ever any sign she’d been there. No trails of blood and death ever followed her visits to Jason.

Bruce grumbled, irritated, when he returned. He always knew when she’d been in town, regardless of any League of Shadows action. Jason knew he kept a scarily close eye on the assassins and their agents. He thought it might have something to do with his past relationship with Talia but knew better than to ask.

Jason wasn’t stupid enough to think she didn’t come to Gotham on League business at other times.

Obviously _,_ she did. _He’d worked the cases._ Jason could tell you how many people they had _confirmed_ that she and her Shadows had killed within Gotham’s borders since he had become Robin. In his opinion, every single one of them had deserved it, no matter how much Bruce disproved.

Traffickers, rapists, serial killers; every one of them had done something. Every one of them.

He’d had to cover his amusement on more than one occasion when she’d sniped a perp right out from under them. Jason wondered, sometimes, what she did with Dami when she was in town. If he stayed wherever home was or if she brought people to care for him. He knew she took care of Damian as much as she could herself.

“Little Robin, searching for a roost?”

Jason startled, looking down. “Ivy! What can I do for you? Keeping out of trouble?”

He grinned at the woman. When she wasn’t trying to take down the whole damned city, he liked her best. She was fun.

“Never, little bird.” She laughed, voice low and playful, “Flying free while the Bat’s out of town?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about!” He smirked, “Big man’s just busy tonight.”

“Sure he is, birdie.” The woman crooked her finger, “Regardless, I have a message. A couple of visitors for you.”

“Oh?” Excitement began to stir. Talia and Damian?

“Mhm. Of the type that makes me wonder about you.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Where can I find them?”

“She said you’d know where.”

“Thanks, Ivy.” He told her, sincerely.

As he fired his grapple and prepared to leave, she called. “Little bird.”

He turned back, to see genuine worry on her face.

“Be careful with them. The Demon is nothing to play with.”

Grateful at her concern, he nodded. “Always, Ivy. Thank you.” Then, Jason swung away with a shout.

Ten minutes later, Jason landed breathless and exhilarated on the rooftop of an old warehouse in old Gotham.

After catching his breath for a moment, he swung and toppled around the bend of a tower and landed on top of another roof; one hidden from view by the buildings around it and mostly protected from the elements by an overhang from the abandoned factory next door.

It was perfect for clandestine meetings

Damian’s delighted squeal pierced the air as soon as he caught sight of the teen in the Robin suit. “ _Khali!_ You came!”

“Always, Dami!” He grinned, sweeping the boy up as he landed and swinging him around, listening to him giggle.

Jason froze when he spied the regal man calmly standing next to his daughter. He had just grabbed Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson and swung him around like a sack of potatoes in front of the man himself. He was so fucked.

“ _Khali!_ ” The boy in his arms whined, tugging his sleeve, drawing his attention.

The Demon’s Head chuckled, an unreadable look in his eye, but Jason relaxed. He wasn’t angry. He seemed almost — wistful? Like he was watching something he missed but never had. It was a hard emotion to read.

Jason gently set Damian down and bowed slightly to Ra’s. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“It was no disturbance, little bird. It is good to see you again. To see how you’ve grown.”

Talia pulled Jason into a tight hug before he could reply. He squeezed back, just as strong. He was surprised at how much he missed her; missed Damian. He didn’t see them often and he'd only spent maybe thirty hours in their presence at all, but it _hurt_ when they were gone.

“I have missed you, habibi. It is good to see you.”

“I missed you, too.” He found himself confessing before he realized.

“ _Khali_ , mother said we couldn’t have dessert until you got here! Can we have it now?” Damian tugged on his uniform, pleading with his green eyes; Jason’s heart melted.

Unfortunately — “That’s not my decision, kiddo, you gotta ask T.”

Dessert? What kind of dessert? On a rooftop?

“Mother!”

Talia rolled her eyes fondly. “Yes, once Father tests Jason, we can have dessert.”

That caught his attention and sent him on alert, “What am I being tested for, Talia?”

And why by _Ra’s?_

“Father is going to test your swordsmanship.”

“My swordsmanship?” He asked, surprised.

“Yes. I know my beloved has taught you but I wish to know how much.”

“Not as much as I’d like.” Jason admitted. “B doesn’t like it but I always enjoyed it.”

“Well, you won’t live with him all your life.” Talia reassured. “Perhaps you can take the skill further when you’re older.”

The boy began to pull him away, towards a pile of drawing things in the corner, telling him about the shopping they did for him and the things they bought and the drawings Damian had done.

Jason looked up, questioning, but Talia just laughed and waved them on.

“It can wait.”

Jason would have nodded but he was pulled away before he could answer. Damian seemed to be very excited to show him all the drawings he had created. Pictures of people in leather armor — Shadows agents if Jason had to guess — as well as dogs, trees, flowers and anything else that had caught his eye. All very skilled for a boy of Damian’s age.

“These are amazing, kiddo.”

He beamed and tried to hand him what looked like twenty more pages. Jason sat on the ground and spread them out so he could carefully examine each one.

He noticed Talia and Ra’s quietly conversing off to the side, felt their gazes on his him, but tried to brush it off.

After each piece had been duly admired Jason carefully rose, helping pack them back up.

“ _Khali_ , for you!”

Damian handed him a piece he hadn’t seen yet. Stark black lines carefully outlined a younger version of them, the then-toddler sitting on Jason’s lap. Jason recognized the image. It was a sketch of one of the photos Talia had taken the day they met. Ice cream at the mall.

Warmth stirred in his chest.

“Grandfather keeps the photo in his study. He let me borrow it for the picture.”

That… made Jason curious but his attention quickly returned to the younger boy.

“It’s beautiful, Damian. Perfect.”

So perfect. He didn’t know what else to say so he swept the boy into a hug and carefully folded the paper away.

The adults cut off their conversation as they rejoined the group.

Jason felt his skin prickle with nervousness as he was handed the blunted weapon. Somehow facing the Demon’s Head in combat, even as practice, hadn’t made it on his to do list. Yet, here he was.

What followed was… educational.

He knew he needed work — knew that he had so much more to learn. Just how much was readily apparent as he sloppily blocked what Ra’s was throwing at him. He could only hope to be half as good as the ancient. Nothing he could do was going to beat six hundred years of experience.

Nothing.

It took a bit for his ease to come back. It had been too long since he’d been allowed to practice. After a few minutes, though, it was better. He stopped thinking and began just _reacting_. Allowing his muscles to do the work instead of his mind.

As he relaxed, he began to anticipate where the next attack was coming from; where Ra’s was going to move next. He moved and struck, avoiding a charge from the Demon’s Head a split second before it came. Jason would cherish the look of surprise on the man’s face for years to come.

He was smiling, a few minutes later, when he was finally disarmed. The test completed.

Ra’s nodded, appearing pleased. “You’ll do.”

Jason shook his head. He’d given up understanding the Al Ghuls ages ago.

Damian ran up, tugging lightly at Talia’s trousers, “Halvah now?”

Jason snickered and she shot him a quelling look. “Yes, habibi, halvah now. Why don’t you go get the basket?” The boy ran off towards the small pile of supplies Jason was still trying to figure out how they’d gotten up there. He quickly came back with a small container he passed off to his mother.

“Have you ever had halvah?” Talia asked, opening it.

Jason shook his head.

“It is a sweet made of tahini and honey. Much like American fudge. I made this with pistachios.” She handed him a small square before handing one to Damian. The little boy stuffed his mouth with it immediately, chewing greedily.

He shrugged and nibbled, always ready to try new things.

The rich flavor caught him by surprise and he devoured it just as quickly as Damian. Talia smiled at him as she took her own piece.

He flushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for enjoying things.”

Even the Demon’s Head was indulging.

Something beeped and Jason winced.

“Time to go?” Talia questioned, voice soft.

The teen nodded regretfully. “Alfred will be expecting me.” He checked his pockets and uniform, making sure everything was in place.

“Nooooo!” Damian cried, clinging tightly to Jason’s thigh.

“Oh, Dami…” The teen’s heart melted. It was ridiculous how much he loved this kid. “I’m sorry.”

“Come home!” The boy begged. “Come _home_ with us!”

“Oh, kiddo…” Jason knelt down to eye-level, “I can’t. I have to go to my own home. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, though.”

“It’s not fair!”

Damian stamped his foot and the older boy has to suppress a smile. Good god, could the kid get any cuter?

“We can’t have everything we want, bud.” Jason told the boy, voice soft and apologetic.

It was a lesson he’d learned younger than Damian. One he hoped Damian would learn in less painful ways. With a quick press of his lips to the younger boy’s forehead, he rose swiftly and turned to go as the pricking at the back of his eyes intensified.

“Just a moment.” Ra’s voice rang clear.

Jason stopped. You don’t ignore the Demon’s Head. No matter how much you want to get away before you embarrass yourself.

He turned back. “Sir?”

The older man beckoned him back. “You’re forgetting, young man, that this was a celebration for you.”

“I — I don’t…”

Talia placed a gentle hand on his bicep. “Happy birthday, Jason.”

Right. He forgot.

“Fifteen is a special year in the Shadows. In our _family_.” Ra’s continued, “It calls for a traditional gift.”

He picked up a long item wrapped in green and gold silk that had been sitting unnoticed next to him and slid a sheathed saif from the fabric.

He then offered it with both hands to Jason. “I would be honored if you would accept this from me, Jason.”

The teen blinked, taking in the hand-carved wood of the sheath and the precious jewels expertly embedded in the hilt of the sword. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He coughed and tried again.

“It’s too much. I can’t accept this.”

Backing up a step, he bumped gently into Damian. The younger boy clicked his tongue.

“Don’t upset Grandfather by declining. He spent so long picking out the perfect blade! I got to help!”

Jason winced. That was the last thing he wanted.

Desperately he asked, “ _Why?_ ”

“Because we want to, habibi.” Talia soothed. “Because you deserve to have the traditional gifts and milestones of our culture.”

The prickling at the back of his eyes returned. Why did it feel like these three cared more about him than even Bruce sometimes?

Why did he feel that they understood him more?

“I — ” His voice broke and he bowed his head, gently taking the blade from the man’s hands. “Thank you. I am _honored_ you think so much of me.”

“You honor us with your acceptance.” Another emotion, something Jason couldn’t identify, lay underneath the sincerity in Ra’s’ tone.

“There’s more.” Talia said, looping the strap of a bag around his shoulder, “We know, however, you must go. The saif was the most important.” She kissed his cheek and embraced him again.

Damian pouted as he wrapped thin arms around Jason’s waist and squeezed again. “You should stay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” A subtle sniff.

God, _this kid_. Jason’s heart was never going to recover. He carefully rewrapped the sword and tied it tightly to his back. When he was done, he prepared his grapple gun and aimed….

Jason looked back, gaze sweeping over the Al Ghuls. He didn’t want to go.

He had to.

“Until next time?” The words slipped from his lips without his permission. A plea.

“Of course, Jason.” Talia smiled softly. “We will see you again.”

He nodded and fired the grapple before he could take Damian’s begging seriously.

But he wondered.

Was the manor — was _Gotham_ — really the place for him?

____________________

“Where did you get that?” Bruce’s steely voice washed over Jason as he completed a kata. The gold-tinted hilt of his new sword clutched in his hand.

 _Fuck_. Bruce wasn’t supposed to be back for a couple more hours. Jason had thought he had some more time to practice… without Bruce finding out. With forced nonchalance, he carefully sheathed the weapon and began picking up the practice equipment.

“It was a gift.”

There was a pause, filled with tension Jason pretended wasn’t there.

“That looks like a League of Shadows sword.” Bruce stated through clenched teeth.

“Does it?”

“I thought I had made it clear that you were not to speak to Talia again?”

“Did I say I had?” Jason snapped, finally looking at the man.

“Where did the sword come from, Jason?” Bruce advanced, blocking him in the equipment room.

Something stirred in Jason’s stomach. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like the way Bruce crossed his arms. The thunderous expression on his face. It reminded him of Willis, three beers in. Just before the storm hit.

Fingers crawled up his spine.

“I told you!” Against his will, his heart rate climbed. His breathing quickened. “It was a gift.”

“ _From whom?_ ”

The shadows of the room played across the man’s face, transforming his features. He knew it wasn’t real. Knew his mind was playing tricks. It didn’t help.

“Jason.” The man stepped closer. A hand reached for him.

No. He couldn’t do this.

“Don’t.” Jason cringed back.

“Jay?”

“No!” Dodging, sword clutched in his hand, he bolted past Bruce.

“Jaylad?”

Jason wasn’t hearing Bruce anymore. He could only hear another voice shouting his name.

“Don’t touch me!”

Jason was gone before the man could follow.

____________________

Jason perched on the edge of Gotham National Bank, watching the cars on the street below as he thought. He couldn’t stop going over his memories of the fight. It bothered him. He couldn’t help dwelling. It had been a few uneasy days since then.

They hadn’t talked about it. If Jason had his way, they wouldn’t ever talk about it. His face heated as he remembered his reaction. He wasn’t some child. He should be able to handle Bruce being angry at him. He _was_ able to.

It wasn’t like they’d never fought — like Bruce had never yelled at him before. He didn’t understand what was different this time. Why he still felt a chill run up his spine when he remembered the way Bruce had looked like his father.

Whatever.

Jason shifted uncomfortably as he tried to push the memory out of his mind.

He’d hidden the sword. It meant too much to him to risk B confiscating it. He had enough hiding places in the manor; it would be fine for a couple of days until he could get it to another one. One outside of Alfred’s jurisdiction.

The butler hadn’t approved when he’d heard about the blade. No matter how much it made Jason’s heart ache to disappoint Alfred, he wasn’t giving it up. He wasn’t giving in.

A terrified scream snapped him to attention. Where had it come from?

It sounded again, echoing through the air around the high rise buildings. Ice formed in Jason’s stomach. He had to help. _There_. In a flash, Jason — _Robin_ — was crashing through the window of a penthouse apartment. The room was empty, but not for long.

A man came barreling through the doorway, likely drawn by the sound of shattered glass.

“ _Madre dios!_ What are _you_ doing here?”

Seriously? He was _Robin_. What did the guy _think_ he was doing here? Before he could say a word, the man attacked, throwing a punch. Jason ducked, cursing. Apparently there wouldn’t be a peaceful solution to this. He tuned out the threats and focused on the fight.

When the man was on the floor, another barged in from the other room. A guard, perhaps? Robin huffed. Just what he needed. Still, there was no glimpse of the woman who had screamed. He dodged a charge and kicked the man in the jaw. With a growl, his opponent pulled a Bowie knife.

Robin smirked; he loved a challenge and this had just gotten interesting. He lured the guard to the corner and was about to take him out when Batman appeared like a shadow.

“Pick on someone your own size.” The Bat growled before throwing the guard through the wall.

Jason suppressed a surge of irritation. He’d had it handled!

“Robin. What brought you here?”

“I heard a scream.”

Jason headed to the room the first man had come out of. It seemed the best place to start. As he opened the door, lamp light from the den spilled in, revealing a bedroom. It hit the bed, highlighting the huddled form of a woman, blonde hair in disarray, a purple bruise darkening terrified blue eyes.

Tears trailed down her red cheeks.

“Please,” she begged, “please don’t hurt me.”

Suddenly, Robin — Jason — was nine-years-old again and on his knees in a dirty alley, echoing the same words as the edge of a switchblade pressed against his throat.

_“Those lips beg prettily,” the man sneered, “but do they do anything else?”_

_The metallic jangle of a belt buckle rang heavy in the air. Tears spilled from Jason’s lashes as a hand fisted in his hair. He couldn’t name all the emotions buried under the sheer terror overwhelming him._

_“Shouldna’ picked my pocket, boy.”_

Robin took a deep shaky breath and swallowed. Rage replaced his irritation with Batman so suddenly it made him sway. He wanted to turn around and take that knife and put it through the throats of both of the men in the den. He wanted to neuter them and serve them their organs for dinner. He wanted to skewer them and string them up for the starving dogs and rats of the Alley. Dish out a little Crime Alley justice.

It took a lot of self-control and a great deal of effort to reign his fury in and to focus on the hurt woman in front of him.

“It’s okay, miss.” He choked out, trying for the calm and comforting victim voice Bruce had taught him. “They’re not going to hurt you anymore.” He would make sure of it.

_“Hey!” A flashlight bounced between Jason and the man looming over him, making him freeze. Jason’s heart jumped._

_The hand left his hair. “D’ya mind? Just trying to get what I paid for, here!”_

_Jason had never been so fucking glad to see a cop in his life._

____________________

Robin knew he was hovering. He didn’t really know what else to do as Gloria was being interviewed. She didn’t seem to mind. Had latched onto him, as well, really. Maybe she sensed his sincerity.

He shifted on his feet and leaned against the wall, fidgeting with the edge of his canary-colored cape. They didn’t normally come down to the precinct, but he’d insisted this time. For her. Batman had given him a long look but acquiesced.

Now, he was here.

The last time Jason had been in this building was seven years ago.

_“Kid as young as you selling it, huh? Such a shame.”_

_Jason’s stomach fell. Of course, they believed him. He was the adult._

Robin had to help Gloria Stanson. She deserved justice. Of some kind, at least, even if he couldn’t give her the kind he wanted. He glanced over at where she was sitting, blanket covering her shoulders as she spoke with the officer.

With all the charges against him, Felipe Garzonas should go away for a good long while. It was the only thing keeping Jason from — No, he was Robin right now and he needed to remember that. He was _Robin_.

A door opened across the hall and he snapped to attention as Batman and Commissioner Gordon walked out of his office, heading in their direction. Something in their expressions… Robin was drawn to Gloria’s side. He was needed.

“I’m sorry.” Gordon stated.

Dread curled in Robin’s chest. _No._

“I’m afraid we have to release Felipe Garzonas.”

The blonde gasped and clutched at the teen, hiding her face in his shoulder. “No!” She cried, her voice muffled.

“Why?!” Robin demanded, wrapping an arm around the woman. “We have all the evidence! Everything you need!”

“But we can’t charge him.” The commissioner stated, grim. “His father is José Garzonas. A diplomat from Bogatago. His immunity extends to Felipe.”

“This is _bull—_ ”

“Robin!” Batman barked.

Teeth clicked as his jaw snapped shut. He glowered behind the white lenses of the mask. The fucker was going to _walk?_ After what he did to Gloria? _After what he had done to who knows how many women?_ Robin wasn’t stupid. He knew — _Batman and Gordon knew_ — that this didn’t happen just once.

This was… this was… this was more than just bullshit; it was flat out _unforgivable_.

He fumed. As he comforted the blonde woman… _Jason_ planned.

____________________

Jason tracked Felipe’s movements from his perch across the street as he tried to ignore the way his gut still turned. The bastard wasn’t getting away with this… but Jason didn’t know what he was going to do yet. What he did know was that he needed to keep an eye on the man.

Figure him out.

He kept pace with the car — a limo, the extravagant fuck — as it wound through the streets of the Diamond District. There had to be something he could do. Something he could find. Some way to _fix this_.

He knew what he _wanted_ to do. How he _wanted_ to handle this. Yet, _Batman’s_ pathetic code wouldn’t let him. Gritting his teeth, he wondered, not for the first time, why he was still with Bruce. It was slowly becoming more obvious that they didn’t believe the same things; hold the same ideals.

Perhaps they just weren’t meant to be family.

Jason had a brief flash of emerald green silk and the scent of sandalwood on the breeze and something twinged in his chest.

The manor didn’t feel like a home anymore. Not like it had the first few months. Or, maybe even then, it had been wishful thinking. Maybe he had wanted a real home so badly that he hadn’t seen the differences. The things that made them antithetical.

But Batman! Who wouldn’t have been awed by Batman asking to take them in? And then, Bruce Wayne. He made Jason a proper rags to riches story. Jason would have had to have been an idiot to refuse.

If there’s one thing Jason was not, it was stupid.

Gravel crunched on concrete and Robin snapped to attention, turning to meet the noise. Batman loomed over his right shoulder.

If he hadn’t been so used to it, Jason would have jumped.

Instead, he grunted and turned back, making sure his quarry hadn’t left in the short time he hadn’t been watching. The last thing he wanted to do was speak. To reveal the tremble in his voice.

He hadn't been able to shake that feeling since they’d found Gloria.

That feeling of being in the alley.

“ _Robin_.” Batman’s voice would have been even to someone else. Yet to Robin it was full of censure.

Well, he had kind of ignored the man’s orders in order to take Gloria home… and his attempt to communicate with him via commlink… and his rendezvous request. He wasn’t sure he could handle being around Batman. Or Bruce.

He remained silent, eyes on his target. Trying to hide his shaking hands by adjusting the strap of the binoculars.

“You disobeyed me.”

Of course, that was what _Batman_ was worried about. Orders. Jason flaunting his rules and directives. Never about Jason. Never about the way he was obviously affected. Only about the way it impacted the mission.

“I know you’re upset.” Batman continued, annoyed.

“Do you?” Jason snapped. _Shit_. He hadn’t meant to —

Batman huffed in acknowledgment. “If you had picked up when I called,” — Oh, there was the Batglare™ — “I could have told you this earlier.”

Jason clenched his jaw but turned to face his mentor.

“We have a way to take Felipe Garzonas down.”

Jason swallowed, trying to get his emotions under control.

“I’m listening.”

It was… a decent plan, Jason had to admit. He wasn’t thrilled. It wasn’t _enough_. But it would get Felipe out of the country and keep Gloria safe. His stomach began to settle.

Now, they just had to prove that Felipe was part of the drug trade. It was a good thing Robin had already started the surveillance.

It took three days before Felipe lead them to the coke bust that would bring him down.

Three days of watching him dine indolently on sunny balconies. Three days of watching him snort coke and get high. Three days of watching him strut and drink in clubs — his predatory gaze sweeping over the girls as they danced.

Bruce had to clamp down on his shoulder more than once to stop Jason from interfering. Felipe didn’t seem to care how old the girls were. How _young_. Bile rose in the back of Jason’s throat. He knew some of them were there on fake IDs. He _knew_.

All it cost was $20 or a couple drug handoffs to score you a fake ID in the Alley. Or $10 and a blow job. Everyone knew that.

When they broke down the door to the drug den, Jason had more than enough pent up anger and rage to go around. They made short work of the drug runners and dealers. They’d had plenty of practice with those types of lowlifes on the street; it was practically a cakewalk.

Felipe was the only one left.

Jason was surprised when Batman turned to him. “He’s all yours.”

...It was a test. Of _course_ it was. Batman was always testing him. Testing _Robin_. Testing his dedication to the rules and that godforsaken _line_. Jason gritted his teeth and bottled his rage good and tight. He wasn’t going to fail now. Not when he had _someone_ _else_ counting on him.

 _Robin_ cuffed Felipe and they took him in.

At least they had him.

Finally.

Gloria was safe.

Robin watched like a hawk as Felipe was booked this time. Keeping an ear out for the phone calls and the discussions the _adults_ were having around him. It was happening. He was going to make bail — a diplomat’s son didn’t stay the night in jail — but he was going to be extradited home to Bogatago. He probably wouldn't face any charges but at least he couldn’t hurt anyone else in Gotham.

Though, he’d have his drug lord father’s ire to deal with so that was something.

It still _ate_ at Jason. This wasn’t the justice Garzonas should be facing. Too light for the harm committed. But it was better than him getting off scot-free, he guessed.

He couldn’t help the way his hands clenched, though. Knuckles that ached to split on Felipe’s perfect cheekbones… or wrap themselves around the handle of a blade as he —

The cruel undertone of the Garzona’s voice caught Jason’s attention.

“Are you looking real _sexy_ for me tonight, baby?” White teeth flashed in a savage grin as he locked eyes with Jason. “I’ll be over to see you later tonight, Gloria. _I promise_.” He chuckled, low and vicious as he ended the call.

“You son of a bitch!” Jason snarled, moving toward the bastard, only to be caught by Batman.

“Don’t. He’s not worth it.” His mentor said, low and soothing as Felipe’s harried lawyer ushered him out the door.

“I’ll send a car by her apartment and get her number from the file.” Jim sighed, weary. “Poor girl shouldn’t have to worry about that asshole.” He moved over to a computer and pulled the record quickly.

“Here, Robin, you want to call?”

Jason nodded and took the number, dialing quickly.

It rang once… twice… three times… voicemail. _Shit_.

Again.

Once.... twice… three times… voicemail. He clenched his fist.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Jason begged, “answer for me.” Voicemail again.

He dropped the phone and took off, ignoring the shouts of his name behind him. This was more important.

When he got to Gloria’s apartment, it was a small matter to break the lock and let himself in when he received no answer. He hadn’t grown up in the Alley for nothing. Stepping carefully into the apartment, he called her name.

“Gloria?”

Unease turned in Jason’s gut. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever he found but he desperately hoped it was alright. That _she_ was alright. That she hadn’t let that _animal_ win. He combed the apartment.

“ _Gloria?_ ”

Only one room left. Jason padded toward the bedroom, heart in his throat.

Please. _Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_ — A gloved hand pushed opened the door. His stomach dropped.

Pink satin shimmered in the light, twisting as the rope turned.

“Gloria!” Jason choked and turned, right into Batman’s chest. When had he gotten here?

“Robin?” Gauntleted hands gripped his arms. “Hold on, chum. Take a breath.”

The pressure on his biceps helped ground him and Jason nodded. Breathing. Counting. Taking a moment to collect himself. As the adrenaline faded, the fury returned.

“Sit down.”

Batman gently pushed him into the living room. The last thing he wanted to do was sit down. _Felipe_ ; that rat bastard. He knew that Gloria was close to shattering. Knew she would break. He did this on purpose.

As Batman turned around and radioed an ambulance for the poor woman in the bedroom (for whatever good it could do), Jason slipped away.

Garzonas wasn’t getting away with this.

A golden _**R**_ slipped to the floor as the door clicked shut behind him.

Jason raced along the rooftops of Gotham, his grapple sinking into the stonework with ease. He knew the Bat was going to be on his tail and he didn’t have much time. No one had ever accused Batman of being stupid.

Jason grinned, near-feral, when he saw Felipe on the balcony as he approached. With a flip and a release, he perched on the railing, calling the man’s name to draw his attention.

_“Garzonas.”_

Garzonas’ head snapped up but he smirked, smug, when he saw Jason. He opened his mouth.

Jason knew words came out in that cocky, acid-laced tone, but the next few moments… perhaps as long as minutes… were only a blur.

He blinked and Felipe was falling, his scream echoing in Jason’s ears and off the buildings surrounding them.

“Robin!” Batman’s gruff voice nearly shouted as he landed next to Jason’s elbow. “What happened?!”

Jason looked down, where a crowd was beginning to form around Garzonas’ broken body.

“ _Robin?_ ” Stern and demanding, “Did he fall or was he _pushed?_ ”

In a flash, Jason came to several realizations. His time as Robin was essentially over. He didn’t agree with Bruce. Didn’t agree with his code and his mission; the way he was going about it. He didn’t feel like the manor was home and he needed to find where that was, what that meant, for himself. Bruce was never going to accept him for who he was; what he really thought.

Yet, he couldn’t go now. Jason needed time to plan. Time to get some things in order.

His mouth formed words before he’d realized he’d made a decision.

“I guess I spooked him.” They sounded hollow to his own ears. _Haunted_. “He slipped.”

Jason brushed past Batman and grappled away. He needed to think.

____________________

He didn’t know where to go, but Jason knew he needed to get out of Gotham. Bruce would eventually hunt him down if he stayed in the city. Metropolis was also out of the question. Clark Kent would find him, with or without Lois Lane.

Jason rubbed his eyes as he walked toward the kitchen.

He wasn’t looking forward to learning the streets of a new city. To starting over. But he’d do what he had to. What Bruce was doing wasn’t working. It wasn’t enough. Jason didn’t — he didn’t — fuck, he didn’t know _what_ he was doing but it sure as hell wasn’t _staying_.

After he had calmed down, had a chance to breathe, he briefly thought that he might have been a bit hasty. Maybe he’d judged Bruce a little too harshly in the moment. Things could be better. He could have a home here. He just had to work harder. He could be what Bruce wanted.

Then, he’d seen the way Bruce looked at him now. Every time his gaze rested on Jason he had a wary look. The same calculating expression he had when they were staring down one of Gotham’s rogues.

Jason was never going to be enough.

Jason was never going to be the Robin that Batman wanted.

He wasn’t going to stick around to see himself recategorized.

_“He’s going to wind up just like his father, Alfred.”_

Jason paused. He’d thought Bruce was at the office today. The butler’s voice was low, too low to hear as he replied to his employer.

“Jason’s become a problem.”

The teen’s heart leapt to his throat. They were talking about _him_.

“He’s growing dangerous. He _murdered_ Garzonas.” A clatter of ice in a glass and a sigh. “I’m removing him from active duty.”

More murmured conversation, too soft to hear, before Bruce’s voice rose again.

“I don’t know what to do with him, but he can’t be Robin anymore! _I won’t have it!_ ”

Jason couldn’t breathe. A hand had slid into his ribcage and seized his heart.

It was one thing to make the decision — to leave on his own — but to know that Bruce was going to throw him away… Jason silently backtracked, heading to the attic of the spare wing. It was time to gather his things. He needed to go.

 _Tonight_.

He had several hiding places throughout the manor, but Jason only needed to visit three of them. With Alfred and Bruce occupied in the den, he was able to gather his things in short order. He slid the sword under his bed, still wrapped in green silk, and took the lid off the beat-up shoebox.

Jason didn’t know what was in it. Papers, he knew. Things his mother had said were important so he’d kept hold of them even on the street. He could make a better determination of what was important now than he could at eight-years-old.

A rueful smirk spread across his face. _Bills_. Red past due stamps glared at him from yellowed paper. He tossed those aside. Photographs. Faded but discernible. Jason shook his head. He didn’t recognize anyone in them. He set those aside too. As he shifted the papers left in the box, his own name caught his eye.

He pulled a piece of paper out.

Oh. It was his birth certificate. That was legitimately important. Jason moved to put it in a separate pile when he noticed something wrong.

His father was listed as _Unknown_ but Willis Todd had signed next to it. His mother… His mother’s name was listed as S—. It was blurred. Smudged. He stared at it for several minutes, trying to make the shapes look like what it should be. Make it the name he’d always been _told_ it should be. But it sure as shit wasn’t Catherine Todd.

What the hell did _that_ mean?

Catherine wasn’t his mom? If she hadn’t been his mother, who was? Who was _**S**_? Blindly, Jason reached into the box, still staring at the document in his hand. He could only hope that his mom — that Catherine — had kept that stupid book of Willis’s.

She’d jokingly called it his Little Black Book, a bitter look in her eyes as she did it. He’d been too young to get the reference, but now he understood. Christ, but his father — Was Willis his father?! What did _Unknown_ mean?! — _Willis_ had been a royal asshole. For more than just when he was beating the hell out of them.

Fingers skated across worn leather. Anxiety twisted in Jason’s gut.

He pulled out the little notebook. Names and addresses, faded with time. Lips pressed together, Jason searched for female names beginning with _**S**_. There were only three.

Sandra Woosan

Sharmin Rosen

Dr. Sheila Haywood

...Well, he’d been looking for some direction; a place to go. Now he at least had an objective. _Find his real mother._ Find out about his father. What was the deal with his birth certificate? Why had Willis signed next to _Unknown_? What did that mean?!

Jason stopped and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment. His heart rate was rising and he was getting upset. He knew it. It was a shock.

Fuck, he had never expected something like this.

Who would? But he needed to calm down.

He needed to… he needed to _find_ them. Needed to know where they were so he could see if one of them was his mom. No, not mom. Biological mother. He couldn’t call anyone that had _abandoned_ him family.

Jason needed to get to the Batcomputer.

He took a few more deep breaths and nodded to himself. Gathering the papers and the book, he placed everything else back in the box. It was useless for now.

On silent feet, Jason headed toward the Cave. He should wait, figure out what Bruce’s plans were. Yet, he needed to know about the names on the birth certificate _now._ If he got caught, so be it.

Heart pounding in his ears, Jason slipped through the clock and down the staircase. He wasn’t worried about being heard. If there was one skill he had always been better at than Batman, it was stealth. He slowly turned the corner, peeking around the edge to scope things out; the Batmobile was gone.

Tension drained from his shoulders and he swiftly moved to the Batcomputer. He didn’t know how or why Bruce was gone, but he should hurry. Jason had names and starting contact information; that should be enough to get him something current.

Dr. Haywood was the easiest to track. She was registered with various service agencies. Doing charity and relief work.

Ethiopia.

Alright then.

Sharmin Rosen was… wow, Israeli special forces. He pulled up her service record. Even the classified files had classified files. He was impressed and more than a little in awe. A woman like that… could do some amazing things.

He could get some basic information, a contact address for her — through the Israeli Embassy of course — but there was no way on this fucking earth he was going to get a location and frankly, that was fine. He didn’t want to jeopardize any mission she might be on. He could wait.

Besides, what were the chances a woman like _that_ could be attached to him? Really now? He did wonder what she had been doing to be in his fath- _Willis’s_ address book.

Sandra Woosan, also known as Sandra Wu-San, and fucking _Lady Shiva_ , might as well be a goddamned ghost. Jason was lucky to find something more recent than the date in the address book. She seemed to move without any restrictions or patterns, popping up randomly in places all over the world. From tiny remote villages to cities of millions and everything in between.

Sometimes, though, she could occasionally be caught at martial arts competitions.

Something, some unnameable feeling, swept through him. _Lady—fucking—Shiva_. Wouldn’t that be a trip? He shivered as a chill trailed down his spine.

An echo of a whisper at the back of his mind. He pushed it away. Her last known location was in Lebanon. He didn’t know fuck all about Lebanon. He’d probably be better served going through underground channels to get ahold of her and he had two other… potentials… to try first.

He could get to Magdala, Ethiopia easily. It was a legitimate location, a relief effort, and it served two purposes: getting him the hell out of Gotham and getting him one step closer to figuring out his family history. Even if it was just crossing an option off his list. Jason could even do it without Bruce being able to track him.

Pulling out his phone, Jason flipped through a few of his coded contacts, refamiliarizing himself with their names and communication protocols. He’d done a bit of his own networking during his time as Robin and it was time to put it to work.

With a few clicks, he cleared the search history (Bruce never figured out how to restore it) and made his way back upstairs. If Bruce was out, Alfred was occupied. Jason should be able to slip out of the manor without much of an issue.

It would likely be a couple of days before anyone noticed he was actually _gone_.

His chest ached at the thought. Clenching his teeth, he ruthlessly ignored it. He wasn’t wanted anyway. It was _better_ they didn’t notice. It was better for everyone. Painless.

He hadn’t come to the manor with much. The clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet and a creased photograph of his mother. Of _Catherine_. He would leave with more. Things that were his. Things he had earned. Things he felt comfortable claiming. He could be grateful for that. For the skills that Bruce taught him; skills that he was going to use to make his own way now. Techniques that he hoped Bruce wouldn’t regret teaching him.

An hour later, as one of the many side doors silently latched behind him, Jason couldn’t help taking a last look up at the manor. At the cold stonework and steel that had been his home for the last five years.

Satisfied with what he saw, he padded silently down the path toward Gotham. He had a plane to catch.

____________________

Jason hadn’t known what he’d expected of African weather but it was surprisingly temperate as he stepped off the back of the plane. With a nod to the men, he slipped away, heading for one of the hangars. He had some time to kill before his next transport.

The last thing he would have expected was Bruce Wayne coming out of nowhere. A hand clamped onto his bicep, hauling him into the building.

“ _Bruce?_ ” Jason gasped, not even thinking to resist as he was dragged around.

Through clenched teeth, the man growled his name. “Jason.”

Rubbing his arm as it was released, Jason asked, “You came for me? Came to find me?”

The wonder in his voice was clear. What else could Bruce be doing here? In the one place that Jason was? It was a surprise, for sure. He’d thought he’d covered his tracks well. Hope fluttered in his chest. Maybe he _had_ been too quick. Maybe the man did care. Maybe he had a place back in —

“No.”

Jason’s heart shattered.

“I’m here for the Joker.”

Of course he was. Green eyes closed as shame swept over him. How could he possibly think that _Batman_ had come for him?

“What are you doing here, Jason?”

Squaring his jaw, Jason shook his head. “What do you care?”

“I don't need your teenage rebellion, Jason. I’m not your father.” Bruce glared, looming over him.

“That’s right,” A voice cracked, sharp and full of venom, “ _you’re_ not his father _._ ”

The Demon’s Head strode toward them, regal in his emerald silk even in a dusty hangar. Talia followed close at his side, the expression on her face fierce and angry as she gazed at her once _beloved_.

Bruce took a step back and readied himself for a fight.

Jason stood taller, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding easing out of his shoulders. Fingers clutched the worn medallion around his neck.

“Talia.”

“Habibi.”

“What are you doing here?” Uncertainty colored his voice.

“We came for _you_ , Jason.” Ra’s stated, placing himself between the boy and Bruce; presenting his back to the other man dismissively. “As soon as we heard you were missing we had agents scouring every inch of Gotham.”

“And every airport and layover.” Talia added ruefully. “That was very well done, habibi.” She placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

Ra’s nodded in agreement. “It was luck that one of our agents saw you boarding the mercenary transport.”

“We are _so_ glad you’re safe.” Talia said softly, pressing a hand to his cheek. “We were so worried.”

Jason’s chest ached. What? He hadn’t known… hadn’t realized they cared this much. He never would have imagined they would seek him out. That they would worry for him.

“ _Why?_ ” The word slipped past his lips before he could stop it. He wished he could take it back immediately. He didn’t want them to think he was ungrateful.

“That’s an _excellent_ question.” Bruce butted into the conversation, eyes flicking between the Al Ghuls and Jason. “I told you to stay away from the Al Ghuls, Jason. I told you they were dangerous.”

“This conversation doesn’t involve you, Detective.” Voice like ice, Ra’s nearly froze Bruce with a glare.

“That is my ward. This concerns me.”

“You were gonna throw me away.” Jason muttered, drawing attention.

“Where did you hear that?” Bruce scoffed.

“From _you_.” Jason stated, a tremor in his voice. “I heard you talking to Alfred. _I’m_ _dangerous_.”

A muscle in Batman’s jaw twitched. “This is a private matter. We can talk about it later.”

“This is a _family_ matter.” Ra’s clarified with a sniff. “ _My_ family.”

With a swift motion of his hand, Wayne found himself surrounded by assassins, all with sharp weapons pointed at his armorless body.

Ra’s placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder and drew him away.

“ _Jason_.” Voice almost reverent, the Demon’s Head carefully tucked a piece of black hair back into place. “I looked for you. For nearly three years before the Detective found you.”

“What?” Jason’s voice cracked. Why did it feel like he was saying that a lot lately? A flare of emotion stirred in his core, quickly tamped out by practicality. He’d been hurt enough.

“When I found out your mother had had you, you were already lost the first time.”

“I don’t understand.” But a part of him did. A flash of Willis’s name scribbled next to a single neatly typed word: _Unknown_.

“She didn’t tell me. She tried to hide you.” Ra’s swallowed. “I combed every inch of that city when you were a child, but you were… difficult to find.”

“I had to avoid the system…” Jason found himself answering faintly, mind thrown back so many years. To ducking police and social workers. People that would only send him into situations worse than he had been in.

“I wished you hadn’t.” A pained look crossed the ancient’s face, likely thinking about how much easier everything would have been if Jason had gotten caught.

Had Jason stayed in place for just… even just four hours. He’d have been home with his real family years ago.

“Regardless,”Ra’s shook his head, “once the Detective had you, I could not interfere. Had I tried to claim you, he would have never let you go, and after what you experienced in your early life…” Ra’s closed his eyes a moment and took a slow breath. “I would not have pulled you from stability. From a home. No matter my personal feelings on the matter. You were more important than my own selfish desires.”

Voice choked with emotion, Jason demanded, “What are you saying?”

He needed to hear it. Vague suspicions based on a fifteen-year-old document weren’t enough. He needed to hear it from Ra’s’ lips; in Ra’s’ own voice.

“Jason, you are my son.”

Vision graying at the edges, Jason realized he had stopped breathing. A son. He was someone’s son. Talia’s warm hands reached to steady him, resting on his shoulders, and he realized he had swayed.

He was someone’s son. Someone’s family.

And they wanted him.

Didn’t they?

They had searched for him. Twice? They had snuck into Gotham to visit him!

“You want me?” The _weakness_ in his voice, the sheer vulnerability, made him wince. Too late to take it back. Too late to change it. Why would they want him? The Al Ghuls were a strong line. The leaders of the League of Shadows. He wasn’t _worthy_.

“You are _my son_ , Jason. Of _course_ I want you.”

Ra’s took his chin gently and raised it, so their eyes met. So that’s where the color had come from. How had he never noticed before?

“I want _nothing_ more than I want you to come home with us.”

A home. A real home with a sister and a father and… oh, shit, a _nephew_. Damian really was his nephew!

“Jason.” All eyes turned to the other man in the room. Bruce. Tone heavy with warning, the man stated, “If you go with them, you’ll become like them.”

Become like them? What did that mean? Something must have shown on his face because Bruce answered.

“You’ve made one mistake, but you can come back from that. You can be _better_ than that, Jason.”

Jason scoffed. He wanted to shout. Yell. _Rage_.

 _Better than that?_ Better to follow some rigid code that would have let Garzonas walk away; no harm no foul! Better to let some of the worst people in society treat Arkham like a revolving door? Escaping only to kill again and again and _again_. How many people had to suffer? How many people had to die? A swift bullet or the slide of a blade could save hundreds. Thousands.

Better than that.

Better than him.

Better than Bruce.

“I think,” Jason began, staring cooly into blue eyes. Eyes that had so often looked at him in disappointment. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

Jason looked to Ra’s — to his _father_ — and asked, “Take me home?”

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and began to lead him away, turning him from the man that had once taken him in.

“My son, it is my greatest pleasure.”

With his sister to his left and his father on his right, they left the Ethiopian hanger. Jason clenched his jaw, trying not to hear the things Bruce was calling after them. A hand squeezed his. Talia’s reassuring look comforted him.

As he boarded the Al Ghul jet, his heart felt lighter. Lighter than he could ever remember. Jason had no idea what his future had in store for him, but he knew — for the first time really knew — that it was bright.

His family made it so.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Carry Me Home by Jorja Smith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q41dmUA0hH0)
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://primeemeraldheiress.tumblr.com/)  
> Beta'd by the lovely [Ellegrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellegrine/pseuds/Ellegrine) [(aka Ellory)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellory/pseuds/Ellory/works)  
> Arabic language check by [sevansa.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevansa/pseuds/sevansa/works)
> 
> Check out my [Blurb Masterlist](https://primeemeraldheiress.tumblr.com/post/188844689355/emerald-blurb-masterlist) on Tumblr for writing that doesn’t make it to AO3!


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